


It’s Reached The End, Brother

by simpingfordavestrider



Series: Things Built on Trust Should Not be Trusted Themselves [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: No pairings - Freeform, author has feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 06:08:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26468464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simpingfordavestrider/pseuds/simpingfordavestrider
Summary: yeah so i don’t have any motivation for my work in progresses so have this instead?
Relationships: Original Character(s) & Original Character(s), Original Female Character & Original Male Character
Series: Things Built on Trust Should Not be Trusted Themselves [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2103564





	It’s Reached The End, Brother

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!! So this fic was just because I couldn’t get the line “Does it even mean anything, to die on the honest side?” out of my head and even tho it’s not spoken or anything in this fic i kinda wanted to like,,, make that line this fic. em8ody it, if you will i guess. so i hope you enjoy?? idk even know how much attention original works can get so,, i’m just hoping someone will like it:).

There was something exhilarating, about fighting. At least, when you were trained and knew how to breathe. She almost laughed, twirling around like a ballerina, though she was nearly thigh deep in blood. She let a smile onto her face as she used her sword like a dancer would an arm, twirling and twisting and all elegance and precision. Beauty, in the face of destruction.

This war had been going on for years on end, and ever since she had been 13, she involved herself with it. She and her brother, Jackson, training together and perfecting their styles. laughing and joking and finding some way to cope with all the bloodshed and gore and death and oh wasn’t it all the same anyway? Over and over and over were there dead bodies, creature or not. And Jackson and she, standing on a battlefield. Tired but triumphant grins every, every time.

Until, of course, Jackson got too far ahead. Too ambitious. Thought that maybe, just maybe, if he worked with the enemy instead of tearing them down, there could be and end. End to the trauma and conflict and sickness. 

But there wasn’t. It only got worse, and worse thrice over again. She thought, at first, maybe he was just using this to get inside enemy lines and learn secrets they just couldn’t get without a spy. But then she saw him tearing down his own kingdom’s soldiers, and she realized he was truly genuine about switching sides, and it broke her. It broke her to catch a glimpse of her brother in battle, but instead of him right by her side, he was on the front of the other. And she tried to get over it, that there was no changing his decision so stop crying every night you wimp, but it just hurt. hurt and hurt and hurt.

So finding a way to twirl around and dance and feel free without him, without battling with him, training with him, and even before the war, playing tag and other silly games, it felt good. Light on her feet in the dress she had learned to battle in, just to spite the other side with her beauty in the face of their ugliness, she killed one after another. Drove her sword through ones heart, separated someone’s head from their body, slicing across another’s torso, was where she found him.

He was fighting ferociously, the lightness and play that used to glimmer and shine so, so bright before was gone, replaced with sturdiness and quick jabs and stabs instead of twirls and slashes and guards and rolls and dances. They caught each-others eye for a second, distracting him from a one on one fight he was in, and that’s when one of her warriors got to him.

No. No. No. Gods, please, no, stop. This couldn’t be happening, right? She was just in a dream, and then she would wake up and play and frolic with her brother in the fields before they had to go to training. He did not, could not, have a knife in his heart. But this felt all too real to be fake, too horrid to be brewed up by her brain. So that’s when she stopped and screamed.

She dropped to her knees and screamed an ugly, tortured sound. Her sobs stopped the battle even, so loud and so sad and carried over the other sounds of death made everyone just freeze. Because this was the fearsome leader they all either looked up to or feared coming across in battle. And she was on the ground clutching her brother’s, who had switched sides even, dying body, crying in agony.

“Hey sister, it’s fine. It’s okay. Sylvia. Sylvia please. Don’t cry for the enemy!” Jackson was trying to reassure her, patting her back and trying a smile even though he was hacking up blood, like he hadn’t even betrayed her. “Via, it’s okay. I’m a traitor anyway, why are you even crying? I’m not worth it Via, stop,” He was pleading with her, which only made her cry harder. “Jack, I-I didn’t want it to end like this, I didn’t think yo-you were gonna die like this, please just-“ “Via, it’s okay sister. What am I anyway? Being hugged by the leader of the kingdom i betrayed. Hey, you know, you make an amazing queen. Sister, I’m truly sorry you know. Just...Sorry.”

**Author's Note:**

> Yo catch me not making jackson good by the end on purpose. you can imagine who’s fighting who, who’s on the good side or not, what kingdom whatever because that’s the purpose here i guess. to make it vague 8ut meaningful as well. all based on the line i came up with, “Does it even mean anything, to die on the honest side?” so take this as you will.


End file.
